


Drugs and Regulations

by KiyoshiTanaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:37:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4058569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiyoshiTanaka/pseuds/KiyoshiTanaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jim breaks protocol, there is a drug-induced confession, and Spock is forced to examine his feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drugs and Regulations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My sister](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+sister).



> This was started because my sister wanted me to write this story for her. She watched the movies with her boyfriend and told him that she shipped Spock and Kirk. When she came home, she asked me to write it for her. So I did.
> 
> And, just to state the obvious, I own none of the characters.
> 
> This is my first ST fic, so don't be too harsh on me, yeah?--KT

“Protocol specifically states that we are not to be seen by developing societies,” Spock informed Jim.

“I’m quite aware of that,” the captain replied, sitting back against the wall. “Fortunately, humans have a phrase for situations like this.”

Spock wasn’t sure he really wanted to know, but he asked anyway. “And what phrase would that be?”

“Shit happens.” Jim quirked his lips up in that aggravating smile of his, the one that dared the world to criticize him, the one that screamed _kiss my ass_. He linked his fingers behind his head and said, “We’ll just have to trust Sulu to rectify the situation.”

Spock opened his mouth to explain several things. First, it would be best for the _Enterprise_ and her crew to abandon them. Best to allow the native people to believe he and Kirk were anomalies, rather than completely alter their growing culture by revealing the others, the _Enterprise_ , and the other advanced technologies they possessed. Their captors were already in possession of their guns and various other equipment. Second, Sulu didn’t have the experience needed to navigate this situation with the delicacy it would require, if they _were_ to be extracted without further incident.

Spock closed his mouth. He had no control over what the crew would do, now that he was no longer onboard, and the majority of the crew was human. He was half-human, yes, but most human emotions still eluded him. They were unlikely to leave both their captain and their first officer behind if there was anything to be done to prevent it. As for Sulu’s probable inability to approach this situation, Spock knew that objection would fall on deaf ears, since Kirk himself rarely approached situations according to protocol.

“I suppose we must,” Spock finally acknowledge, mostly because they had no other choice.

“That’s all you have to say?” James laughed. He was entirely too cheerful for Spock’s understanding. They were locked away in a stone cellar, weaponless, waiting for their jailers to return. “I was expecting a lecture.”

“I decided to save my breath, as the probability of you heeding my advice is less than five percent.”

Before James had a chance to form a response, they heard loud voices outside their cell door. James instantly joined Spock on his feet. The door swung open, revealing different women than the ones who had captured them. They, too, wielded spears, leaving Spock and James powerless in comparison.

The taller of the two, wearing little more than a skirt and a few bracelets, jabbed her spear at Kirk. Kirk met Spock’s eyes and followed the women before Spock could even calculate the probability of him returning alive.

Aside from the flickering lamp, there was no light in the cell and—having been relieved of everything but the clothes on his back—he had no way to tell how much time had passed since his friend was taken away, let alone how much time since they’d been taken captive.

Spock was accustomed to solitude, but this was different somehow. He did not like not knowing what was happening to Jim. He was… worried. Yes, that is what James would tell him he was feeling. Worry.

* * *

After what felt an interminable amount of time, Kirk was pushed back into the cell. The door slammed shut. Kirk giggled.

“James?” Spock asked.

The captain giggled again. Then he began laughing outright. Spock didn’t know how to respond. He had never seen Jim fall subject to such a mood. He’d seen some people act this way after consuming too much alcohol, but Jim tended toward angry rather than giddy.

“James,” Spock repeated, “What happened?”

James stumbled, still laughing, and Spock was forced to catch him in his arms. “Are you in pain?” Spock asked.

James laughed. “Pain? No. Nonononono. They drugged me. I feel _great_.”

Spock lowered Jim to the ground, and Jim dragged him down to the floor as well. James leaned against Spock’s arm and asked, “Have I ever mentioned”—yawn—“that you’re really attact—attrict—really hot?”

Before Spock could formulate a response, Kirk was snoring and drooling on his shoulder. Perhaps it was a good thing. How does one respond to one’s best friend informing him of his supposed physical appeal?

* * *

James was still snoring when they were transported back to their ship. However Chekov had managed it, Spock was grateful. It was an unusual feeling. He normally preferred to follow protocol, but the idea of James dying was repulsive in a way he still hadn’t managed to pin down, even after the confrontation with Khan.

Dr. McCoy was on hand immediately. “What happened?”

“He said he was drugged,” Spock informed the medical officer. “It was in between fits of laughter and shortly afterwards he said some—incomprehensible things, after which he passed out. He hasn’t woken since. I have no idea how long it has been.”

“Right.” Dr. McCoy pulled out a flashlight and announced, “Pupils are responsive. Let’s get him to sickbay.”

“I’ll do it,” Spock volunteered. He glanced at Sulu. “Get us out of here, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.”

Scotty followed them back to sickbay, babbling all the while, until Spock snapped, “Scott! You are _not helping_.”

“My apologies, Commander. I just figured someone had to worry.”

“You don’t think _I’m_ worried?” McCoy snapped. “He’s my best friend!”

“Yeah, but you’re suppressing that, so you can do your doctor thing,” Scotty argued.

“Scott. _Still not helping_ ,” Spock growled as the two of them watched McCoy work over Jim’s immobile body. “And I’m plenty worried. He is my best friend as well.”

Scotty finally shut up. Good. The incessant babbling was doing nothing to calm Spock’s rattled nerves. “He cannot die, Dr. McCoy.” The surprised looks he received from both the doctor, Scotty, and the nearby nurses prompted him to say, “The _Enterprise_ needs her captain.”

“That she does,” Scotty confirmed.

Unfortunately, McCoy didn’t seem convinced. He met Spock’s eyes momentarily before turning back to Kirk and scanning him with a variety of instruments, the names and purposes of which were currently eluding Spock. Why was he so _useless_?

After a long moment, McCoy announced, “It appears he is simply sleeping. I can’t find anything wrong with him, aside from a few bruises and abrasions.”

“Those were from our attempted escape,” Spock informed him. “Nothing done to us by the native people.”

“Right.” McCoy paused before suggesting, “Perhaps, Commander, you should return to the bridge.”

Right. He was first officer. He was in charge as long as James was incapacitated. “Notify me immediately with any developments.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

They were traveling through an empty stretch of space when Uhura asked, “Commander, a word.”

Spock nodded and followed her to the lift, where she froze it. “Are you fit to be commanding the ship?” she asked. “And I’m asking you as a friend.”

“I am fine.”

“I know you have feelings for James,” Uhura responded. “The situation must be difficult. I just want to be sure you’re okay, that you aren’t going to react badly to something the way you did when he got himself killed to fix the warp core.”

“I am fine,” Spock repeated. “And what feelings do you mean? I consider him my friend, the same as you.”

Uhura gave him a small smile and reached up to cup his cheek in her hand. “I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t love you, you know.”

“I do not understand how this pertains to our current conversation,” Spock admitted.

“I broke up with you _because_ I loved you, Spock,” Uhura said, as though that clarified things. “It hurt to be with a man who so clearly harbored feelings for someone else.”

“But I didn’t,” Spock replied.

Uhura chuckled. “You did. You still do. You cared for me, yes, but you didn’t love me. You look at James the way I always wished you would look at me.”

“That is absurd.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Uhura replied, “But a woman can tell when her man is in love with someone else. It’s whether or not she’s willing to admit it that differs. Would you like some advice?”

“I will always accept your advice,” Spock replied. “You know that.” Uhura was one of the most intelligent people he’d ever met. While she didn’t always act logically, she often provided him with insights he couldn’t see for himself.

“Put Sulu back in charge,” she advised. “We’re not in imminent danger at the moment. He’s perfectly capable of guiding our ship when there are no threats about. Let him be in charge for a while and you just go be with James.”

“But it is my duty—”

“There are two kinds of duties, Spock,” Uhura interrupted. “Professional duties and personal ones. If you always put your professional duties first, you will never be happy.”

“I’m content.”

Uhura smiled. “I know.” She hit the button and just before she exited the lift, she said, “But I didn’t say _content_ , I said _happy_.”

Spock nodded. “Please inform Lieutenant Sulu that he is acting captain until further notice. If my assistance is needed, I shall be in sickbay.”

Uhura nodded. “Good choice, Commander.”

“Uhura, one last thing,” Spock asked. “These feelings you say I harbor for Jim—are you the only one who has noticed them?”

“Yes,” she assured them.

“Why haven’t I noticed them?”

“I’m sure you have,” Uhura answered. “You simply haven’t understood them. Now go to him. The ship will be fine under Sulu’s command.”

* * *

Two days later, McCoy pulled Spock away from Kirk. “Commander, you need to sleep. You haven’t slept since you returned to the ship.”

“I’m not tired.”

McCoy sighed. “Spock. Go get some sleep. I will come wake you up myself if there are any changes.”

Spock stood to leave. McCoy was right. He hadn’t slept for nearly four days now. He would be utterly useless in the event of an attack.

As he left, he took one last glance at James, and was hit with the full force of Uhura’s words and what they meant. She believed he was in love with Jim.

All Spock could truly process was that he would really like to kiss the man lying motionless on the bed and if the worst were to happen, Spock knew he would regret not having done so for the rest of his life.

* * *

 

Only hours later, McCoy shook Spock’s shoulder. “Commander,” he said, “You’re needed in sickbay.”

Spock was wide awake in seconds. “Is he awake?” he asked as they strode down the hall. Spock was distantly aware that his uniform wasn’t as orderly as it should be. He found he didn’t care.

“No. But there has been a change. He’s tossing and turning now. I doubt your presence will change anything.”

Spock truly didn’t care if his presence made a difference.

* * *

 

When he sat down next to James’ bed, the man was tossing and turning, as McCoy had said. He also appeared feverish, his face flushed and sweating. Spock held a hand to his forehead. “Is there anything you can do to bring this fever down?”

“I’ve already done all I can,” McCoy told him. “I’m doing my best to keep his temperature down, but he’s reacting badly to whatever those drugs were. And since I have no idea what they were, it could be dangerous to mix medications with them. There’s only so much I can do.”

Spock turned away from the medical officer and returned to his silent vigil. He’d gotten a few hours of sleep. There would be no need for more until the captain recovered.

Spock heard McCoy leave. Ten minutes later, he impulsively reached forward and gripped Kirk’s hand. After a few minutes, while the tossing and turning didn’t stop, James’ fingers did curl around Spock’s own. It was surprisingly intimate and Spock could hear Uhura’s words in the back of his mind. _There are two kinds of duties, Spock. Professional duties and personal ones. If you always put your professional duties first, you will never be happy._ Was this a personal duty? To sit by his friend’s side, even when his friend wasn’t aware of his presence? To sit by his friend’s side because it was a comfort to himself, not the friend in question?

* * *

It was two more days before Kirk finally woke up. Spock had given in to his need for sleep, but he had refused to leave Kirk’s side.

“Why the hell you holding my hand, Spock?”

Spock snapped to attention at the croaked question. “Jim, I—”

When he moved to withdraw his hand from Jim’s, Jim squeezed his hand, preventing it. “Don’t,” Jim said. “It’s nice.”

His eyes had already closed again and he was drifting back to sleep as Spock called out for McCoy.

“What happened?”

“He woke up,” Spock replied. “Just for a short time.”

“Did he say anything?” McCoy asked as he ran some scans.

“Nothing that made any sort of sense.”

“But he did say some things?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell me what he said?” McCoy demanded. “It could be important.”

“He simply wanted me to continue holding his hand.”

McCoy’s eyes met Spock’s. Then McCoy ordered the room clear. “Spock, I would like to think that Jim here would tell me if he were in a relationship with someone, but I can’t be certain he would. So I have to ask. Are the two of you… involved?”

“Is that what the crew thinks?”

“No,” McCoy answered. “Just something I’ve picked up on between the two of you. It’s been there for a while, but it’s always most obvious when one of you is in danger. Are you going to answer the question?”

“Is the answer relevant to his treatment?”

McCoy chuckled. “No. I’m just curious.”

“The answer is no,” Spock replied. He met McCoy’s eyes. “And you know I’m a very poor liar.”

McCoy’s eyes sparkled. “Out of respect for that, I won’t ask if you would like to be involved with our fair captain.”

Spock looked at him for a moment before saying, “I thank you for that, Dr. McCoy.”

McCoy gave him a brief nod and Spock realized he had miscalculated; Jim and Uhura were not his only two friends.

* * *

When James woke the next day, he stayed awake, objecting loudly to being kept in sickbay. “I should be up on the bridge, commanding my ship!”

“Sulu’s doin’ fine, Jimbo,” Scotty told him.

“Why the hell is Sulu in charge?” Jim demanded. “Spock’s my first officer!”

“Ol’ Spock here was too worried about you to be an effective leader,” Scotty replied cheerfully. “Wouldn’t leave your bedside.”

Kirk’s eyes met Spock’s. “Scotty, Bones, could you give us a minute?”

“Ooh, a lover’s spat,” Scotty said, “This kind of thing is why this ship is so exciting.”

“Scotty,” James growled.

“Sorry, Captain, I’m going, I’m going.” McCoy dragged him away before he could say anything else.

James looked at Spock and asked, “You haven’t left my bedside? You were worried enough to step down from the captain’s chair?”

“I did leave your bedside,” Spock replied.

“For how long?”

This was undeniable proof that Captain James Tiberius Kirk knew Spock far too well. “Three hours and twenty two minutes, after which your condition worsened and I returned.”

Kirk nodded. “And is there a reason you were holding my hand?”

Spock had been hoping Jim hadn’t been lucid enough to remember that. Of course, the odds hadn’t been in his favor regarding that one. “I found comfort in it.”

Something in Jim’s face softened at Spock’s admission. “Oh. Did I say anything?”

“Just that I should keep holding your hand,” Spock replied.

“I meant while I was asleep,” Jim said. “I had some rather vivid dreams.”

“No, you didn’t. Is it out of line to ask what the dreams were about?” Spock was curious before James brought it up. Dr. McCoy had done a scan when the captain’s thrashing had reached its peak, and the only thing he could come up with was that Kirk was dreaming. Clearly, McCoy’s assessment had been accurate.

Kirk shrugged. “This and that.”

“You are lying.”

“Why do you say that?” Jim asked sharply.

“You looked away from me, your breathing rate increased, you responded with the least amount of information possible, and your voice was also pitched slightly higher than normal,” Spock informed him. “If you do not wish for me to know what you dreamt, you need only say so.”

“You’re a good friend, Spock, you know that, right?”

“Thank you. I feel the same way about you.”

They were silent for close to ten minutes before Kirk asked, “After they drugged me and brought me back to our cell. I remember saying something to you. Was that a dream?”

“Are you referring to when you informed me that you find me physically attractive?” Spock asked.

“Damn it.” Jim collapsed back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I hoped I’d dreamt that.”

“Why should it matter if you said it out loud?” Spock asked. “It is common knowledge that you find both men and women attractive.”

“It’s just not something you tell your friends, Spock,” Jim replied. “It can make things awkward and fuck everything up, you see?”

“How can honesty cause problems?” Spock asked. James always insisted there were times one should be honest and times one should keep secrets, but Spock still couldn’t sort out which times were which. He had yet to see proof that anything was ever helped by not having all the information available.

“I suppose it’s good it’s you,” Jim replied. “That confession won’t make you feel awkward, the way it would if I had told Bones or Scotty the same thing. What’s that face for?”

“I find that I do not like the idea of you telling Dr. McCoy or Mr. Scott they are attractive.”

Kirk began laughing. “You’re _jealous_?”

Spock looked away. “Perhaps. There is no need to laugh. You are perfectly aware that I am not always completely in control of my human side.” Especially where Jim was concerned. And that alone lent credence to Uhura’s claim that Spock had feelings for the man in the bed before him.

“Aw, Spock, don’t be like that,” Jim said. “I don’t find Bones or Scotty attractive.”

“Oi!” Spock heard from the other side of the door, immediately followed by, “Ow!”

“They’re eavesdropping on us,” Jim said.

“It would appear so,” Spock replied. “So can you explain why it is best that you confessed your physical attraction to me? You said I won’t feel awkward about it. What is there to feel awkward about?”

James’ lips twitched upward. “Exactly. Humans would feel embarrassed around each other afterward, if one friend confessed an unreciprocated attraction. Since you don’t feel awkward about it, we can pretend it never happened and just go on as we were.”

Spock felt conflicted. To speak his mind meant risking Jim’s friendship. At the same time, he did not believe he could pretend the confession had not taken place. Before Uhura had forced that moment of introspection upon him and he had understood what his actions and reactions around James meant, it would have been simple to go on as though nothing had changed. Understanding that he had feelings—is this what Uhura felt for him? What his parents felt for one another? What they called _love_?—for his best friend meant he wasn’t able to forget. Jim’s confession gave him another feeling, although this one he had felt when he’d been told Khan’s blood could save Jim— _hope_.

The deciding factor on whether or not to tell Kirk was very simple. “Jim, you know that I am incapable of lying. Or at least incapable of telling a convincing lie.”

“Yes,” Kirk replied. “You have proved that on multiple occasions.”

“Well, to pretend you never confessed your attraction and that nothing has changed would be a lie,” Spock explained. “Everything has changed.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Kirk argued. “I don’t want it to. You’re my best friend.”

“Oi!”

This was followed by a rather loud, “Shut _up_ , Scotty!”

Spock ignored them. McCoy and Scott cared too much about Jim to spread this around the ship, should things not turn out the way Spock planned. And he knew they respected Spock himself enough to keep it to themselves. So he asked, “And if I wish for it to change? If your attraction to me is not, in fact, unreciprocated?”

James just stared at him. Spock was starting to suspect that this sense of vulnerability, uncertainty, and hesitation was what James would classify as _feeling awkward_.

“Just bloody kiss him already!”

Spock met James’ eyes, and there was something there, something he couldn’t quite define. He was normally terrible at understanding what people were thinking, but he knew what James was saying with that look: _It’s your move._

So Spock did something he had never done before. He threw caution to the wind, although since they were in deep space where there was no wind to be had, the saying didn’t make much sense. He shifted so that he was seated on the edge of the bed and leaned in to press his lips against Kirk’s.

When he pulled away after a mere second, he knew he’d made the right decision. Jim looked happy. Still tired, but happy. Happy in a way Spock didn’t think he’d ever seen the man. He’d seen what he knew to be relief at getting the _Enterprise_ out of a dangerous situation, excitement and worry when _in_ that dangerous situation, amusement when pursuing various men and women—which Spock had always disapproved of, although now he recognized it as jealousy—and sorrow following Pike’s death. He’d thought he’d seen Jim look happy, but it wasn’t anything like what he saw now. He would need to reevaluate. Later. Now he wished to kiss Jim again. So he leaned in for another kiss, relieved when Jim didn’t push him away.

This one was deeper and more intimate. Spock was pleasantly surprised to discover that kissing Kirk was nothing like kissing Uhura had been. Kissing Uhura had been pleasant, yes, but nothing like this. That hadn’t felt _right_ like this did. It hadn’t felt both soft and hard, gentle and demanding, generous and selfish. It was a study in contradictions, yet that in itself made it perfect.

The moment was ruined by a loud whoop from the doorway, followed by, “Ow, ow, ow! Let go of me ear, Bones, you’re nearly rippin’ it off!”

Kirk collapsed back on the bed with a breath of laughter. “I’d love to continue necking like a couple of kids, but that drugging thing is still kicking my ass. Think we can pick this up after a bit more sleep?”

The fact that Jim wished to continue was more than enough for Spock. He needed to step back and examine what he was feeling in order to give him a better understanding of both his emotions and Jim’s, lest he—as Jim would put it—fuck everything up.

* * *

He spent an hour contemplating the meanings of different actions and reactions, on both his part and Kirk’s, and what their meaning was. After which he experienced a headache for the first time and decided to simply accept Jim’s assessment that _Emotions don’t make sense. That’s what makes them_ emotions _and not logic_. Achieving such acceptance was far easier than he would have predicted. Clearly Jim had already influenced him much more than he had realized.

Once his headache had subsided, he went to Uhura, knowing she would be able to help him understand. “Is it customary for feelings of affection to force one to alter one’s behavior?” he asked her.

“What are you asking?” she returned.

“I find that it is much easier to listen to my emotional responses that it ever was before, and I am certain it is a direct result of my friendship and affection for the captain,” he explained. He was not certain enough to label what he felt _love_ , and he wished to discuss it with Kirk before he did so.

Uhura nodded. “That’s normal. People change because of the people they love. It’s bad to change _for_ those people, but to change _because_ of them is something that can’t be avoided. They always have an effect on your behavior, especially when the feelings run as deep as yours do for the captain.”

There was a tear in her eye and Spock registered that questioning Uhura about his feelings for Jim was both inappropriate and cruel. He had gone to her because he trusted her most of anyone aboard the ship, excluding Jim. “I apologize,” he said. “I should have taken this matter to Dr. McCoy, rather than putting you in this position.”

Uhura smiled, although that tear remained. “You’re a good man, Spock. It’s why we both love you, you do know that, right?”

Spock didn’t answer, because he didn’t know. Kirk had not told him he felt anything beyond physical attraction. Therefore the statement that they _both_ loved him was entirely speculation. In addition, _good_ was entirely subjective.

“Stop thinking,” Uhura ordered. “Just feel. Don’t suppress it. Don’t analyze it. Just feel. Because I know you do. You feel things more deeply than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“I see.” Just feel. The task was so simple, yet so difficult. “I think I shall return to the bridge and relieve Sulu of the chair. Having time to myself will only allow me to analyze everything further.”

Uhura nodded. “I’m going to work on decoding a message we received. It isn’t in a language I recognize, but I have enough experience in xenolinguistics that I may be able to at least determine the sentence structure.”

“Which is where you must start.”

“Exactly.”

* * *

 

It was two more days before Jim escaped from sickbay. Spock knew Dr. McCoy hadn’t cleared him for duty. “You haven’t been cleared for duty,” Spock said. “It is against regulation for you to captain the ship until you have been given medical clearance.”

“Really, Spock?” Kirk asked. “You’re going to go on about regulation now? I feel fine. There’s nothing wrong with me.” He grinned. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were committing mutiny and attempting to commandeer my ship.”

“Until Dr. McCoy clears you, it is my ship.”

“Hm,” Jim said. “Let’s compromise.”

“How?”

“Let’s make it’s Sulu’s ship for a few hours.”

“How is that a compromise?” Spock asked. “We have not reached a middle ground.”

“It’s neutral ground,” James replied. “Isn’t that close enough? We can go to my quarters and find the proper middle ground.”

“I see no problem with that. Sulu, you are acting captain.”

“At zis rate, zey might as well just step down and promote you,” Chekov noted.

“Don’t even think about it,” Kirk replied. “I’m not giving up my ship but I’m not sure she’d be able to function without Sulu at the helm.”

* * *

When they were back in Jim’s quarters, Jim locked the door and pushed Spock up against it, kissing him.

Spock pulled back. “Captain, I thought we were going to discuss a middle ground.”

James laughed. “You didn’t really think I brought you to my _private quarters_ to talk about Starfleet policies, did you?”

In hindsight, it was a rather odd choice of venue for a professional conversation. “Of course,” Spock acknowledged, “You wish to engage in more personal relations.”

“Exactly.” Jim kissed him again and it was just as intimate and intense as one they had shared a few days before in sickbay.

* * *

Spock had no idea how much time had passed when they finally pulled Jim’s sheet up over their lower halves. They were naked, sweaty, and covered in a number of bodily fluids Spock had difficulty ignoring.

“I love you,” Jim said without prelude. “I would normally dance around the subject, but I know you. You’d miss the hints entirely, and you wouldn’t know what to do with those you did pick up on. And since _normal_ for me is avoiding the subject, you should know that you’re the first person I’ve said those words to.”

Spock paused before replying, “I believe I love you as well.”

“Good. Because now that you’re in my bed, I’m not letting you leave.”

“We will have to leave eventually. We will need to eat and shower and return to commanding the ship.” Spock objected. After a moment, before Kirk could even comment, he realized that Jim could not possibly mean the phrase literally. Which meant… “You did not mean your literal bed. You meant a figurative one. Meaning you wish to continue our physical relationship for an indefinite period?”

“Correct.” Jim kissed Spock’s collarbone, an area he had discovered was surprisingly sensitive. Jim had realized it as well, quite quickly, meaning there were a number of angry green bruises all along the prominent ridge.

“It is protocol to notify one’s superiors if two Starfleet members enter a romantic or sexual relationship, in order to prevent confusion should things not work out between the two individuals. I will write up the report for both of us.”

James chuckled and licked one of the bruises. “I love it when you talk regulation to me.”

Spock had no idea what that meant, but Jim was kissing him again so he figured it must be a good thing.


End file.
